


The Highly Suspicious Loss of an ADA

by cuphugaddict



Series: The Series of Highly Suspicious Barisi-Events [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Fluff and Angst, Food Porn, Friendship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, Sort Of, belly appreciation, post-that episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuphugaddict/pseuds/cuphugaddict
Summary: As there is a knock at Rafael's door at 10:30 p.m. one night, he expects one of the three people who know where he lives nowadays standing outside the same: his Mami, Rita or Carmen.He does not expect to see a certain SVU-Detective standing outside his new residence in Brooklyn. And why is Carisi holding a hideous cooling container in his right hand?





	The Highly Suspicious Loss of an ADA

**Author's Note:**

> This story is actually prompted by something that happened to me - albeit in thankfully far more pleasant circumstances than the ones in this fic as I simply had a rough week of grading, teaching, organization and general "start-of-the-semester"-chaos at university. So one night, two of my best friends stood outside my flat with the exact same thing that Carisi brought with him in this story. As my two wonderful people do not have a profile on this page or on tumblr, I cannot link them appropriately but what I can do is dedicate this story to them. They are amazing and I'm really lucky to have people like them in my life. This is for you - you know who you are! <3

 

The knock on his door made Rafael look up in confusion. Who on earth could that be?  
There were exactly three people who knew where he had moved to – his mother, obviously, Rita, of course (because why would he risk the continuous stream of high-brow scotch coming from that particular direction?) and Carmen as she had organized the entire process of him moving places even though she did not work for him anymore, bless her – and none of them would visit him unannounced at 10:30 p.m. Except maybe Rita, but Rafael knew that she had finally taken three weeks of vacation to spend some time with her newest conquest on Barbados. It wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve a holiday every few years – and at least that meant that she would only pester him one or twice a day with working in her firm.

Rafael got up from where he was sitting on his sofa, glass of scotch on the table in front of him, where he previously was trying to work through some of the books he had hoarded the previous years. Despite popular believe, Rafael Barba did not only enjoy reading through law books and case files but was what some people might call a bookworm. So whenever he found the time to browse through a book store or was shopping online, he always found one or five books that caught his interest – either because they were classics he had never gotten around to read, because he had read a great review somewhere or because the text on the back struck him as funny or odd. So over the years there was a whole pile (three!) of books that he never had gotten around to read. He intended to catch up now – in favor of actually figuring out what he wanted to do now that everything he had ever worked for had blown up in his face spectacularly.

Just as he made his way out of the living room he heard another, more impatient knock. He briefly entertained the thought that something bad had happened and it was indeed his Mami outside his house but thought better of it. There would be pounding and shouts of “Open up, Rafi! Now! _Dios mio_ , how long do you intend to keep your mother on the street? This is not how I raised you” and the like.

The sight that greeted him once he had come around to open the door was one he would never have expected in a thousand years: Detective Dominick Carisi, Jr., in an admittedly rather nice dark blue three piece suit, hair product that had doubtlessly been there since the early morning hours slowly capitulating, grinning, a cooler in hand. Rafael, a complete loss of words or ideas what on earth that man – _that_ man – was doing here, greeted him with “What … Carisi?”

The smile only widened, challenging those dimples that Rafael had spent way too much time thinking about as it was. “So you haven’t forgotten who I am then, that’s a start.” The former ADA only raised his eyebrows. “If you would let me in now, people would think you to be an almost civil human being.”

Rafael was not proud of himself, but he really did consider slamming the door in the detective’s face just to slow his heart rate down. Despite his initial urge, he stepped aside and let the younger man in. He was only met with a chuckled, “Thanks.” As Rafael was granted a few moments to collect himself while Carisi looked around the ground floor, nodding approvingly, the former ADA got around to forming a coherent sentence. “How did you find me, Carisi?”

The blond spun around on his heels, cooler waving in the air, “A-HA! So you _were_ hiding …” Rafael only rolled his eyes, “Moving to Brooklyn can hardly count as hiding …” although he had to admit to himself that maybe financial reasons were not the only thing that made him decide to turn his back on Manhattan. “I mean, I can literally see you guys over there”, the older man said and waved his hand towards the windows in his living room.

Carisi however only grinned, “Could’a fooled me there Counsellor.”

Rafael sighed, “Not anymore Carisi, I thought you got the memo by now.”

“It wasn’t as I had the chance to get the info first hand …” If Rafael didn’t know better, the younger man almost sounded hurt. And if that didn’t send his mind reeling more than it already did, he didn’t know what else it was. Maybe Carisi’s aftershave. He had changed that – he would have noticed that appealing note before, had it been there.

Rafael sighed in defeat, “As much as I hate to repeat myself, I still have to ask again: What are you doing here? I cannot imagine that you don’t have anything better to do than visiting a sarcastic ex-colleague of yours during your sparse free time.”

Carisi waved his cooler in the air again in, God help him, a very Carisi-like manner. “I am here to win a bet.”

“Excuse me?!” Rafael asked taken aback.

Carisi only grinned. “Do you remember …” the blonde said as he walked over to the sofa as if Rafael had invited him to take a seat there – which he should have done, come to think of it, “… that one time we were at Forlini’s and it was Rollins’ birthday?” Rafael shrugged. He might remember … although there were quite a few birthdays they have celebrated there. “Thanks for the trip down Memory Lane, Carisi”, he replied bitterly before he crossed his arms in front of his chest and crooked his hip.

Carisi would not be Carisi though if that would make him stop unpacking whatever he brought with him in his hideously turquoise cooling container. “I made lemon cake because it’s Rollins’ favorite and she gave you a piece and you pushed it away like it might bite you and said you don’t like dessert.” Rafael nodded while the detective placed a Tupperware container on his table and put small forks and spoons next to it. “And I couldn’t believe that anybody wouldn’t like dessert and rattled off everything I knew and you dismissed every single one of them?”

Plates were lain on the table: “Is there a point to all of this?” Rafael asked impatiently.

Carisi only smiled up at him: “Bets followed. In SVU, I mean. Bets – with Rollins and Fin – that I could not find a dessert that you actually liked.” Rafael stayed silent, “And it took me some time, but I did. And now, I’m here to earn my reward.” The smile grew even bigger as the graying blonde pulled out a spatula. “I do have a kitchen, Carisi. Quite well-equipped, I might add.”

The detective chuckled, “Oh, I am sure of that …” He opened the Tupperware container and Rafael caught a glance of something that looked suspiciously like tiramisu. And, come to think of it, of course it was that particular dish that Carisi would bring to him in the middle of the goddamn night.

As the younger man started carefully extracting a piece of the pre-cut dessert from the box, Rafael finally walked over and sat down next to the detective. Why was he standing in his own living room while this … _intruder_ made himself at home anyway? “I believe I mentioned that I do not fancy tiramisu, detective.”

Rafael was almost blinded by the smile Carisi cast towards him, “Oh, but you haven’t tried this one Barba …”

“I have tried enough of them …” Still, Carisi thrust the plate in his direction and he took it with a roll of his eyes. The man actually had the indecency to hold a small fork up to him like he was a three-year-old. Rafael took it with a sigh and eyed it suspiciously.

“Go on, try it …” Carisi said, looking every part like the Golden Retriever he had always thought him to be. A Golden Retriever that shed his coat and blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt apparently, tucking his long legs awkwardly under the small table.

Rafael steadied himself, took a forkful of the Italian dish and slowly let it wander to his lips, Carisi following his every move with highly focused attention. Once Rafael had closed his lips around the dessert and his taste buds were activated, he moaned, despite himself. His eyes fluttered close. If there were such things as foodgasms, this had to be it. Once Rafael opened his eyes again, Carisi looked smug. And the older man couldn’t help himself. He had every right to. “What on earth is this Carisi? It’s not simple tiramisu …”

The blonde to his right chuckled, “Told you it wasn’t …”

Rafael took another fork of the dessert and even though he braced himself for the oh-so-much-more-than-pleasant taste explosion, he still have to give a little moan again. “What’s the taste … I …” Rafael took another bite, “Coffee, sure … but that’s normal, right?”

Carisi chuckled and nodded, “Very good. You’re already well on your way to become an Italian …”

Rafael could not keep his frown for long because he just had to take another fork of the tiramisu. “Carisi, tell me what’s in there or I am going to torture you until you do so.”

The young man laughed silently, “Only if you admit that I so won the bet …”

Right, this was a bet. Rafael had been tempted to forget that for a second. “I’ll send Rollins and Fin a video file of me having sex with this thing if you want me to. Now tell me what you added …”

“That’s blasphemy Barba, at least for an Italian …” Carisi fake-frowned while Rafael stuffed another piece of the mystery-tiramisu into his mouth. “I don’t think so … most of all for Italians.” Carisi laughed out loudly at that and Rafael smiled with his mouth full.

“Scotch.”

Rafael almost dropped his fork, “What!?”

The detective’s lips curled, “I put Scotch into the mix and practically drenched the biscotti in coffee so strong that it would wake up the dead and scotch. I thought you would appreciate it.”

Rafael closed his eyes again, “Damn right I do.” He could practically feel the younger detective beam at him, “If you’re not careful I am going to keep you locked in here and have you make this for me every day from now.”

As Rafael opened his eyes again, Carisi didn’t look as carefree as he had anticipated. He had won a long-lasting bet after all. “What if I don’t wanna be careful?” And there it was again. This … this _thing_ between them that had been there from the beginning, disguised by snarky remarks and their sarcastic banter, probably gallons of coffee and waving coats. As both men only stared at each other for what could have been seconds but also minutes, Carisi let out a huff. “Anyway, you don’t have to abduct me – I can bring some by now and then. No need to venture into the realm of delinquency.”

Rafael snorted, “Not more than I already have, you mean …”

Carisi looked taken aback and … hurt. “That’s not …” His voice almost failed, “That’s really not what I meant.”

Rafael waved him off, “I know. I apologize, I didn’t want to … bark like that. I am an old and bitter man who wants to wallow in self-pity.”

An awkward silence that never had been there before grew between them. Just as Rafael wanted to open his mouth and say anything really to resolve the tension, Carisi, who had up to then looked down onto his empty cooling container, said quietly, “I just … I just wish that you’d have told me.”

Rafael bit his lip, “Told you what? That I had flipped the switch? That I have asked myself day and night if I had really done the right thing? If I am a murderer now? That I was up for trial? That I have resigned from my position as an ADA?”

Carisi only shook his head, “That you were about to leave …”

Quite taken aback, Rafael sighed. “What would you have done? Try to stop me …?” Carisi looked up and there were actually tears sparkling in his eyes. It surely was the wrong context to notice things like that, but it made his eyes so much bluer that Rafael had to gulp.

“I would have tried to help … however I could.”

The older man nodded, “You always do Carisi, and this is not meant as a teasing remark for once”, Rafael added as he had detected a frown forming on the detective’s forehead, “You are always there for everybody who is in need of any form of support and it always takes a small part of yourself down with the people you are helping in the process. And an old and bitter man diving around in the depths of self-pity is not what you need to concern yourself with right now. You need to stop doing that, you need to look out for yourself.” Rafael sighed, realizing that he still held the plate with half eaten tiramisu in hand, “And, as much as I hate the prospect, I need to get of my lazy ass and do the same.”

Carisi smiled sadly, “And do you know what you are going to do yet?”

Rafael sensed the opening for re-directing their conversation into more light areas of conversation. “Well first of all, I am going to finish eating that delicious, Scotch-soaked dessert that you so kindly brought me. And then, who knows? I’ll have to get through my options … Rita offered me a position but I don’t think I am going to take it. At least not right now. I don’t know, getting right into defense law after …” he trailed off, “It just seems wrong somehow …”

The blonde nodded, “I get it, believe me.”

Rafael smiled lightly down on the plate in his hand. Yes, Carisi truly did understand, he was that kind of person. “Thank you, Carisi … for the tiramisu. And for coming by. It … it really means a lot.” The detective nodded and looked down onto his ridiculously large hands. “Come to think of it”, Rafael started after he ate another fork of dessert, “How did you find me? I didn’t even tell Liv yet …”

That finally got a small grin out of the man sitting opposite of him, “I am a detective for a reason, Barba.”

Rafael smirked, “Rafael.”

“What?”

The older man rolled his eyes, “We’re not working together anymore, you tracked me down in Brooklyn to bring me home-made dessert and you found me in my oldest pair of jeans and a fluffy sweater. You can call me Rafael.”

Carisi’s face broke into a smile that could light up whole of New York, Rafael was sure: “Only if you finally call me Sonny …”

The former ADA rolled his eyes in a playful manner, but grinned. “I’ll try … _Sonny_.” The smile grew even bigger, if that even was a possibility. “And as we are not working together anymore as well as we managed to establish a first-slash-nickname-basis, I am going to tell you a secret.” Cari- _Sonny’s_ eyes grew wider just as you would expect from a child, Rafael noticed in an entirely positively amused way, but for once, he stayed silent. “I love desserts. Any kind, it doesn’t matter. Not to undermine your truly amazing dessert, the likes of which I wasn’t allowed the privilege to taste before this piece of culinary art, but I enjoy almost everything.”

“WHAT?!” Oh, the Staten Island accent was back in full force.

Rafael grinned smugly, “You heard me.”

Sonny’s mouth dropped open and he waved his hands in the air, “Why the hell did you tell me otherwise? You kept refusing everything I suggested!”

“That I did”, Rafael replied dutifully, “Because I gathered that you would keep bringing whatever I agreed to along your visits to my office …”

Carisi shrugged, blushing slightly, “Maybe …” Rafael raised his eyebrow, waving the plate with the tiramisu in the air. “Okay, yes, I would have” Carisi admitted, “But why did you refuse that in the first place? You clearly like it …” The blonde waved his hand over to where Rafael was sitting.

The older man chuckled, “That’s exactly the problem. I like it too much …”

Carisi only frowned at him like he didn’t understand a word Rafael had just said. Well, maybe he really hadn’t. He rolled his eyes and sighed, “For crying out loud, Sonny, I don’t want to get fat.”

The guy really had the impertinence to laugh, “Excuse me?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake! Not everybody has the metabolism of a teenage-giraffe”; Rafael sighed in exasperation.

If anything, the detective’s laugh increased, “Did you just call me a teenage-giraffe?”

“Without evidence, I haven’t. You know the deal …” Rafael grinned and Sonny kept chuckling for a while longer. Just as Rafael had placed another fork if tiramisu into his mouth, because damn him if something delicious as this would go to waste, the blonde spoke up: “Just for the record Rafael: You are everything but fat …”

“Oh yeah?” the former ADA asked challengingly, “And what do you call this?” He waved towards his larger-than-a-year-ago belly. Come to think of it, those jeans would not be fitting long anymore, not matter how washed out the already were.

Carisi bit his lip, “Don’t hold it against me, but I always found a healthy appetite and what came along with it quite attractive …”

Rafael almost chocked on his tiramisu. The tiramisu Caris-Sonny had especially made for him. Because he appreciated _a healthy appetite_ and what came along with it. Dear God, his stomach suddenly made flip-flops. “You’re Italian, of course you think like that …” was the only comeback he could think about in that moment.

Sonny however only smiled at him, still blushing adorably, and Rafael’s only thought, as he had finished his portion of the tiramisu, was the one he followed through with: “Would you give me another piece … please? And take one for yourself too so I won’t feel so bad afterwards …”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: They called the dessert a whiskymisu.


End file.
